


The Woman Without Fear

by Ilthit



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Circus, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, F/F, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/pseuds/Ilthit
Summary: Tonker and Lofty join the circus.





	The Woman Without Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/gifts).



Nobody joined the circus unless Monty approved of them. It had been a busy morning, but the cup of tea in front of him was soothing his fractured nerves. He patted his moustache-guard to make sure it would not be interfered with by another sip and cleared his throat. “Tewt and Halter, eh?”

The girls looked like nothing so much as a pair of runaways, but not first-hand, fresh-out-of-the-bedroom runaways. They looked like the sort that had been through the ringer, on the cusp between runaway and just another one of the numberless unrooted. The big one, especially, looked like she could do some damage. Well, Monty wasn’t the sort to discriminate. If you could haul, you could haul. “We could use another hand at the stables, if you know anything about horses.”

“Everything,” said Halter, with the kind of confidence that told Monty she knew nothing. 

“Hmm,” he said, and turned his attention to the little one with the rather disturbing look in her eye. “And you?”

The big one looked at the little one, but the little one kept her dark eyes on Monty, her mouth a thin line until she priced it open. Her voice was soft. “I make things explode.”

\- 

Tonker Halter pushed through a gaggle of trick riders and wedged herself between crates to get to the peep-hole in the curtains. This was the best spot for watching the act from the back, where the lights filled up the sky, and you could see all the acts, though mostly on the bum-side. 

These past weeks had taught her the layout of the circus, the people, and their ways. It was almost as chaotic as the army and had more rules, but say what you like, it was rarely boring. After the Grey House, hard work was nothing she couldn’t get on with, so long as nobody gave her a sermon with it. Every day she got stronger or learned something new. Maybe she’d even have an act someday. It didn’t matter right now.

Right now was about Tilda.

“The mistress of flame… The bravest woman in the world… We give you… Madame Matilda, the woman without fear!”

Tilda’s back was ramrod-straight as she was lowered from the heights into the spotlight on an aerialist loop. Her outfit was tight-fitting, sparkly, with orange sequins in the shape of flames sewn along the bottom, and had taken almost as long to be created than her act had. Tonker’s muscled tensed. Any sign of trouble, and she’d run out there and get her girl. They’d go somewhere else. There was a lot of world out there. 

Tilda stepped out of the ring and gave the audience a bow. They'd gone through the routine dozens of times before opening night. The barrels were brought in, and a single candle placed upon a table in front of Tilda, who remained silent and aloof throughout the entire thing. The audience murmured and shifted, and Tonker fancied he could see a couple of them yawn. 

Tonker grinned. They had no idea.


End file.
